Throwing Caution to the Wind
by Izzileia
Summary: Karkat Vantas was a prestigious ballet dancer, but after a terrible accident his dreams were crushed. A few years after the inncident, Karkat is offered a position as a ballet instructor, and when a boy named John Egbert floats into his classes, Karkat is determined to make him the best in the world. Based off of Nevernoahh's Dancestuck AU.
1. Chapter 1

Karkat Vantas stood in the dressing room, shoes neatly on the vanity as he pressed powder onto his shiny nose.

"This is it, Karkat! This is opening night!" His partner squealed from a few feet away. She, too, was applying her heavy stage makeup. Karkat sighed, he might have looked calm on the outside, but his stomach was knotted with nerves on the inside.

"Yeah it is, isn't it?" He grumbled, putting down the puff, and grabbing a can of hairspray to cement his thick black locks into place. They had been practicing for months, but he still couldn't believe he had gotten the main male role. Karkat inhaled deeply, before the white mist of sticky spray washed over his hair and shoulders.

"You're going to be great." His partner whispered, her voice soft as she wished him good luck. Karkat had been dancing with Terezi as long as he could remember, and having graduated from dance school only a few months prior, it only made sense to stick together. Karkat grabbed his shoes, and sighed, holding them tightly as he made his way to costuming.

It was two hours of hell in the costuming department, the end result of which was Karkat stuffed into a bright red, itchy costume that he was sure would make him overheat. Terezi's light teal costume contrasted his completely. Blood and Tears were the characters they were portraying in this production. The storyline was a hazy fantasy, with turns and twists that were very different from anything he had ever danced in before.

The red eyeshadow dusted over Karkat's orange eyes matched the lipstick soon applied over his lips. He got into his ballet shoes, golden skin rippling with toned muscles, and headed upstairs to the stage area, where he would be waiting, yet again, for the cue for his dance. His stomach was knotting itself up again, but he knew he knew his dance. He could waltz out there, and his muscles would kick in, memory and training working together to perform seamlessly.

The stage lights dimmed, and the audience hushed, the big golden curtain stood dauntingly as the darkened stage was set with props. He watched as Terezi silently moved into position, leg propping up, and body contorting to its pose. The orchestra stuck up, and the curtain rose, lights illuminating the liquefied movements. The music was slow, and somber, dark blue lights creating casts of living shadows into her skin. With one violin key change, the tempo increased, purple lighting struck, and then he was on stage.

His legs carried him on his own, joining in the elegant dance of push and shove. Near and Far, death and life. Feet placed themselves, arms shifted, and lifted, and they danced. Oh did they _dance._ The audience gasped loudly as Karkat grabbed Terezi's waist, lifting her high into the air, one leg a perfect 90-degree angle out behind him. Karkat fought the urge to smile, this was only the first scene, and already they were getting a response. When the lights dimmed, Karkat still holding Terezi over his head, after he had slowly sank to one knee, shedding a sense of glory onto his partner, he placed her gently on flat feet. Standing, they darted off the stage as the crew came out to change props.

"That was amazing, Karkat!" Terezi said, holding his arm while her taller partner drank from a bottle. He had beads of sweat glistening on his forehead, and when he pulled the bottle away, a rare, gorgeous smile crossed his lips.

"It was all for you, my dear. My job is to make you look like an absolute queen, okay? That's what we've been fucking practicing for the past five months. The Queen of Mind, protected by her valiant Blood Knight." Karkat teased, elbowing Terezi lightly. They got ready for the next scene, more characters now joining them on the stage.

It was nearing the last scene, Karkat's and Terezi's final dance. They got into position, Karkat holding Terezi with one arm, her back curved over his arm, only inches above the floor. His legs were splayed wide, opposite arm extended behind his back, and arm muscles twitching. The lights went up, and the music began, the same somber tune at the start. Karkat gently listed Terezi to her feet, and they glided away from each other, spinning around the stage until they met again. Their dance was going marvelously, and Karkat was preparing for their final big stunt.

Terezi's hips met his hands, and he plucked her up, holding her gently before they parted, Terezi tossed lightly, leaping away, but something went horribly wrong. As Terezi landed, her ankle rolled, and a sickening _SNAP_ echoed hauntingly through the place. The music stopped, and Terezi screamed loudly in pain.

Karkat Vantas watched as his partner was rushed off the stage, lights dimming, as were his eyes. This was it. He had hurt his partner. His heart thumped loudly before feeling like it had been crushed. His vision tunneled, and his vision went out, just like the light of his dreams.

After the incident, Karkat stopped dancing professionally. He still practiced, however, in his studio at home. It was something he couldn't just forget. Terezi couldn't dance after the incident, so why should he continue performing? After 4 years of not dancing, Karkat heard a knock on his door, and opened it to find his neighbor, and best friend Gamzee standing with a bundle.

"Gamzee, you have to stop getting my fucking mail." Karkat snorted, taking the rubber-banded stack of letters. Gamzee let himself in, and Karkat gracefully kicked the door shut. He shuffled through his mail, and found a slightly yellowed piece of paper, sealed with a red wax stamp. His eyebrow arched, and he peeled away the seal, unfolding the thick paper. The scrawling script inside flew over his eyes quickly.

"_**Dear Karkat Vantas,**_

_**We've watched you for a long time as a prestigious dancer. You've remained at the top of our list for instructors since you graduated from the Alternia Dance Academy. We would like to offer you a position here at Prospit School for Performing Arts as an instructor of Ballet."**_

He kept reading the letter, getting the information about the school. He set down the letter, and rubbed his eyes with his fingers, heaving a big groaning sigh. He picked up his cellphone, and punching in the number.

"Yeah, hello. This is, uh, Karkat Vantas… I was calling about the position you offered?"

"_Oh yes, Mr. Vantas! We'd be pleased to have you!" _Gamzee watched his best friend jabber on into the phone for a few more minutes, and then flip it closed, a small smile passing his lips.

"Gamzee, looks like I'm going to be dancing again."

"Again? Motherfucker, you never really stopped…" Gamzee pointed out, and Karkat shrugged. He had accepted a position as a dance instructor, and maybe a fresh start.

The next day, Karkat drove the short half hour to Prospit School for Performing Arts. The woman who ran it met him, she had short hair, and striking green eyes.

"My name is Callie, and it's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Vantas." She said warmly, and Karkat nodded.

"Call me Karkat, Callie. Mr. Vantas was my crab of a dad." He joked, and was escorted inside by the small woman. He was given the grand tour, the whole building an old brick structure, with 4 floors including the basement. Callie led him up the stairs to the top floor, and into a huge room that had a small, carpeted platform to one side. There were two doorways that led to separate bathrooms and changing areas.

The room was well equipped with bars, and mirrors, plus a deluxe sound system. Karkat found himself smiling, and put down the small duffle bag he had brought with him.

"Well, Karkat, this is where you will be teaching. You have a range of classes to teach, from smaller children, Ballet 2, and a few more advanced classes, Ballet 4, 5, and 6. I hope you will get adjusted well, and I hope the drive isn't terribly long." Callie explained, still smiling her sweet smile. Karkat smiled at her, and shook his head.

"Not at all, Callie. This is spectacular! Do you mind if I," he gestured to the empty room, "get a feel for it all?"

"Not at all! Take as long as you need. You start next Monday." Callie was gone in a flash, and Karkat stepped onto the slightly padded gray floor. The vinyl felt good under his sneakered feet. After changing into a pair of tights, and a tee shirt, he slipped on his shoes, and placed a CD into the music system, and pressed play.

He stretched himself out on the bars during the first few tracks, and then took a long stride out into the room. His feet moved themselves in a routine he thought he had long forgotten, a scene from the Nutcracker. He danced slowly, taking in the feel for the floor, the bumps and grooves, and the dimensions of the room. He was doing more than dancing; he was learning his new territory, and preparing himself the battlefield.

Karkat introduced himself to a few other instructors before he left, the Hip Hop instructor was named Dirk Strider, and Kanaya Maryam taught Modern. He sat in his car, a huge smile on his face, although he wasn't dancing as much, he was still back, and it felt great.

It was only Friday when he first visited Prospit, so Karkat spent Saturday and Sunday hauling his equipment to the school. He stacked CD's neatly, and lined spots on the floor with different coloured electric tape. He covered the edges of the Ballet bars with fleece, and Band-Aids to protect his students against the harsh corners. On the small shelf where his extensive CD collection sat, he placed a small photograph of Terezi, a sad memento, but one necessary.

Monday came quicker than he expected, but at 7am Karkat stood, ready to meet his first class of students, one of the more advanced classes, Ballet 5. A stream of boys and girls filed in, all holding themselves with either pride, or with a sheer lack of confidence. They looked at Karkat awkwardly, and he stood tall, hands on his hips.

"I'm your new teacher, my name is Karkat Vantas." One girl, a blonde with black lips stared right at him.

"_The _Karkat Vantas?" She asked, a thin eyebrow arching high in skepticism.

"The one and only." He shrugged, and quickly glanced at the sheet of named with photos. The girl was named Rose Lalonde.

"So you're my Ballet 5? Bunch of scrawny, gawky teenagers if you ask me." Karkat huffed, looking over each kid. They all shuffled awkwardly under his intense orange eyes, and black hair. "Everyone onto the platform, I want to see what you guys can do. Everyone should have performed before, am I right?" The kids nodded as they made their way to the raised area.

"Alright, first up is…" He looked at his sheet again, pulling one name from the rest, "Jade Harley." A girl with a tight black bun stood up, a pair of glasses perched on her nose securely. She stepped off the platform, and stood in front of her new instructor.

"You know a routine?" he asked with an unintentional snap in his voice.

"Of course I do, I'm not an idiot." She snapped back, and Karkat smirked, walking over to his CD's.

"What show, and what track?"

"Swan Lake, Act 2 scene 2." She said, and Karkat found the CD quickly. He popped it in, and played the track, turning to observe. He watched her fluid movements with judgmental eyes, taking in each step and critiquing her frame in his mind. He let her dance, and then pulled down Rose Lalonde.

Her dance style was nearly identical to Jade, and so was every other girl. Karkat frowned deeply when he began calling the boys, as it seemed the school was processing mechanical clones of dancers, and no real freedom was displayed.

John Egbert was the first dancer to catch his eye. His face held boredom, and his movements did too, but there was something… there. Karkat took in the boy, around 18, with black hair and blue eyes that pierced the soul. His body was an upside down triangle, wide shoulders tapering into a narrow waist, and long legs, even in distance. His arms hit a little past mid thigh, with large hands. He was muscular, but wasn't applying himself. He had something Karkat hadn't seen in any other dancer, the proper frame, and talent to go with it.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Karkat was ehaughsted by the end of the day. His classes had all gone well, but Karkat despised how monotone all the dancers were. Even the smaller ones in Ballet 2 showed signs of an assembly line type instruction, so he was determined to destroy it. He pulled an old box from a high shelf in his dancing studio, and sat down with a box of strawberries. He pressed play on his remote, and the old VHS player whirred to life, static flashing on his TV screen before a small child, tanned and frowning in tights and a tunic top. He smiled at his younger self, laughing at how funny he looked with short black hair, and buggy orange eyes.

Karkat watched his tapes, the recordings of his old performances, and practices. He paused, and rewound, and studied closely the grainy films. He knew how to dance, but not how to teach dance, so observing himself would be the perfect way to study for the boys.

It was late when he finished his tapes, and he popped in the next ones. Terezi's childish frame danced around his screen, and sobered eyes watched he liquid movements, pure elegance and grace incarnate. He didn't even need to watch the videos, but something about the sickening memories that made his heart hurt left him needing more.

He crawled into bed late that night, videos neatly replaced in their box, and black silk sheets hugging his body. He slipped into a dark oblivion; sleep overtaking him as soon as he closed his eyes. His nights were often haunted by nightmares, but tonight was a rare treat where only darkness enveloped every corner of his mind, his vulnerable sleepself protected by a shroud of black thicker than the night. It was anything but a peaceful sleep, but it was the best he possibly hope to receive.

Karkat again made his early morning pilgrimage to the school, waiting patiently with a cup of hot coffee for his students to arrive. Rose was the first to show up, a good half hour before anyone else did. Karkat glanced at her, and she barely returned the look while she walked into the changing area.

She emerged not long after dressed in her leotard and tights.

"So you're really Karkat Vantas? From Alternia School of Dance?" She asked, propping a leg up on one of the bars, and stretching downward.

"Yeah, I really am Karkat Vantas. I was the top at Alternia." Karkat took another swig from the bitter black liquid in his cup, and set it down. He stood up, and went to stretch next to Rose.

"Why didn't you go big? I mean, you were big, but you just stopped not even a year after graduating." Karkat had his forehead pressed to his knee, and he sighed, closing his eyes.

"I just lost the spark. You know about me, so you probably know about Terezi too. After she couldn't dance, it just didn't seem worth it." Rose did know about Terezi, Karkat's famous dance partner, who was injured tragically.

"So why take this teaching position?"

"Something to do, maybe? Or something to experience. I guess I just wanted to let it live on, my dream, for a little while longer. I'm not too impressed so far with what the school has offered me, you're one of the better ones, Lalonde." Karkat smirked, and continued stretching.

"I will take that as a backhanded compliment." Rose said with a small smile. Other students had finally begun to trail in, and make their way to the changing room. When everyone had come out, Karkat called role, and they stretched, Karkat gave them positions on the ballet bars.

"What I saw yesterday was a mechanical, cloned, piece of shit teaching." He said blatantly, eyebrows furrowed as he walked in front of his students. "Whatever they've been teaching you here is an assembly line of crap. Now I could blame you students for it, saying you wanted to follow orders and what not, but I'm not going to, because I was a young dancer like you. I'm going to wipe your slate clean, and redraw your formula more fantastic than ever. Ballet 1, or Ballet 6, it doesn't matter. I can reteach you. I need a partner. Lalonde, come here."

Rose stood next to Karkat patiently while he did three basic steps. First position, and two short sashays. She was instructed to copy, and did.

"Too stiff. Move only your legs, make your upper body like water." He snapped, and Rose tried again. Karkat made a huff, and tapped her shoulders in a few spots, adjusting her positioning, and arms. He held her arms gently by the elbows.

"Go limp. Entire body. Just fall." He whispered, and she did. Karkat supported her as she elegantly dangled, and the other students watched in confusion, and awe.

"Ballet isn't about the footwork, or the moves, or the routine, it's about grace, fluidity, and the movement of the body in dance. Everything should flow together as one, each making up a component. Each and every one of you is too stiff to begin with. I made Lalonde here go limp, completely limp, like a wet noodle, because you need to know what that feels like." He propped Rose back on her feet, and called out another name, instructing them to do the same things he had just done with Rose, right down to holding the deadweight student.

He did that with every single dancer, male and female. When they got back on their feet, they instantly looked less tense. He told them all to do the moves he had showed them at the beginning. First position.

Sashay. Sashay.

Karkat smiled with the corner of his mouth, that simple exercise had developed a new sense in all of them. Their arms remained soft, while backs straight, and legs elongated. They were stretching themselves out.

"Good. Now you are the second most advanced class of ballet students here, so I expect you to be able to have these next things down pat by Friday." Karkat observed his new flock, eyes once again looking at the bored John Egbert.

"Egbert, get up here for these next few." He grunted, and John came forth, smiling with big buckteeth. Karkat showed him a few basic moved, part of a small routine he had learned as a child. John copied them almost perfectly, not stiff, but limber in actions. Karkat felt himself smiling with one half of his mouth, and showed him more.

He made John dance after him for a few more minutes, before breaking down and showing him the exercises he had planned. After class, he waited patiently until John walked out, changed from his tights back into jeans and a tee shirt.

"John, come here for a second." Karkat beckoned, and John strode up.

"Yeah, Mr. Vantas?" John asked confused, unsure if he had done something wrong.

"Call me Karkat, okay? And no, nothing is wrong, but something is very right. John Egbert, you have potential." Karkat leveled his orange eyes with brilliant blue ones.

"And I mean _Potential._ I don't know how you managed not to turn out like all the others, but you are the best dancer I've seen in this entire class. I bet you just floated along in your own little bubble through the system, right? Learning the dances, but never really applying. Absorbing the moves, but never learning. Goddamn I would have been so angry if I had been your previous teacher, but right now that's overjoying. You still aren't applying yourself, though. It's only been two days, but by the end of the month, I think you'll have drastically improved. You're not a carbon copy, and so you'll do well. Go on, then, that's all I really have to say, kid." Karkat smiled a weak smile, and John's eyes had lit up.

"Thank you Mr. Vanta- I mean, Karkat! I'll try my best!" John jogged off to meet a light blond boy named Dave Strider, the younger brother of Dirk. Karkat looked at the photo of Terezi, and sighed.

"I found a good one, Terezi. I found a really good one." He smiled sadly, and began preparations for his next class.

**A/N: Wow, this has been accepted pretty well already! This AU was inspired by a prompt from Nevernoahh, an artist on Tumblr, who gave me the okay to write this! Thanks so much already for the positive feedback, and reviews, it's great! Love: Katy.**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

A/N: Wow guys, I'm actually shocked at the overall acceptance of this story! The prompt came from my FAVORITE ARTIST EVER, Nevernoahh, and she said she liked my writing. /massive blushu/ Thanks so much for reading, and check out my other stories too! I'd really appreciate it!

-Katy

While classes were going well, Karkat found both boredom, and annoyance in the students. One morning, after having drilled his now limber students, he stood with arms crossed.

"I don't know about you guys, but this is incredibly boring." Some murmurs of agreement spread out, and Karkat smirked.

"I'm your teacher, and so far I believe I've taught well. I mean, this is the first teaching job I've ever held, and this school has mass-produced emotionless, stiff clones they like to pass off as dancers. Back in Alternia, the school I was taught at, we each had classes of no more than four or five. Tiny classes, very one on one, and very successful. That school, however, was much larger, and had many more teachers. I want to split you into groups. Two girls, two boys in each, I will work with each group individually for 10 minutes of the hour each day.

I will learn how each individual dancer ticks, and what their strengths and weaknesses are. You might tell me now, 'Oh I can't point my feet straight', or that you lack balance, or something, but that's bullshit. I want to study you all, and see what you're really capable of, because this school sure as hell didn't do that. It's my job to make you gawky kids in tights into _dancers, _and if I have to I'll die trying."

After his dramatic speech, the kids looked at Karkat differently, with more respect, and more eagerness in their steps. Karkat in turn tried to channel how his instructors taught him, with a firm hand, but praise if done correctly.

"Remember, Practice doesn't make perfect. _Perfect _Practice makes perfect." He said loudly, demonstrating the steps for a second time, and swearing not to do it again. Within the hour they showed massive improvement.

"Your teaching style caries a different air than all the other ballet instructors." Rose Lalonde approached Karkat as he was packing up, already changed into what she wore almost everyday, a black skirt, and a white tee shirt with an octopus thing on it.

"Well I don't teach like shit then, I'm presuming?" He retorted, not looking up from his CD pile.

"Quite the contrary. You've actually interested us, and make us work for it. You don't accept a good attempt, you only appreciate us when we're working hard, and aren't loading us with praise. The other instructors… Well they showed us the moves, made us try them, and if we got close we moved on. They showered us with compliments, and built up our egos, whereas you… Well you came along and broke all of that down, and are showing everyone what they really are." She smirked with black lips, and Karkat gave her a sideways glance.

"And what is that?" He asked genuinely.

"We're all idiots." She laughed, and walked away, linking arms with Jade as she went. Karkat huffed a sigh, and finished stacking everything up. He saw John lingering outside the door, and stuck his head out.

"Why aren't you leaving, Egbert?" He asked bluntly. John looked up from his feet, a bit of surprise on his face from the sudden voice.

"Oh! Karkat! Hi, I was just waiting for my dad to come pick me up. Is that… okay?"

"Yeah, kid it's fine. Hey, if you got a few minutes before he comes, come on in and I'll help you with your positions, okay?" John looked at his watch.

_The kid wears a watch?_ Karkat thought in a bit of confusion as he led John back into the classroom.

"Okay, see, what are we trying to do with our legs when we do ballet?" Karkat asked, and John fidgeted awkwardly.

"Well… Lengthen?" He was unsure of his answer, and Karkat nodded a yes.

"And?"

"Uh… Plie." Karkat chuckled.

"Turn out. We're trying to lengthen, and turn out our legs. You keep yours long, but stiff, and together. Here, look in the mirror at our legs. First position." Their legs turned in unison to the v-shaped foot position. "Plie, relave, potabure." He instructed, and they did the tree steps.

Karkat's legs stayed still, yet fluid, where John's were slightly hyper extending, and shaky.

"See the difference? You need to relax your knees, and turn at your hips, not the calves." Karkat demonstrated, and John followed. "Good, lets try again, shall we?" They did the same again, three beats for three moves, and this time John looked strikingly similar to Karkat.

"Good job, son!" A voice came from behind them, and they both turned to see a tall man in a fedora, and white shirt, pipe clenched between his teeth, and a big smile spread across his face.

"Hi dad!" John said happily, hopping over as he took off his shoes in exchange for the sneakers his dad held.

"So you must be his new teacher, Mr. Vantas was it?" John's dad looked to be in his mid thirties, and he extended a friendly hand. Karkat took it, and they shook firmly.

"Karkat, you can call me Karkat if that's okay. I'm really impressed with your son, he has the makings of a star." Karkat said honestly, nodding from son to father.

"I'll keep that in mind! It was a pleasure meeting you, Karkat." The two walked away, and John's dad ruffled the black hair.

"I'm so proud of you, son." Karkat heard as they left, and he smiled forlornly before preparing for his next class of young children.

He met Gamzee for dinner after work, the run down diner a favorite spot of theirs.

"So how was work?" Gamzee asked as he ate some of the bread the waitress had left.

"Fine, the kids are starting to get used to me, and the littler ones are showing even more improvement since they're so young." Karkat said, flipping through the menu. He always got the same thing, so he didn't know why he even bothered. It was something to look at, perhaps.

His nights had been filled with videos, and old notes, plus cases of strawberries to keep him fueled. Teaching was harder than he expected, but he got a feeling of satisfaction from it. This job was better than the ones he had held in the past, so maybe he'd stick with it.

Maybe he'd bring these kids to the big time.


End file.
